Leorina D'Maris, a young scientist who's only focused on what she does best, creating medicine for every illness as possible. However, despite her achievement, she wasn't acknowledged by most of her family and her father only sees her as a tool to e...
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LANTERN OF THE NIGHT
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Days passed, and Leorina was finally allowed to leave the hospital. Her father, Aldren, had been firm in his decision: no work until she was fully recovered. The refugees, who were accustomed to seeing her tirelessly at work, were already informed of this by Aldren himself. They expressed their understanding and even reassured her when she tried to apologize, but the restriction left Leorina feeling restless.
Back home, the ban on her working was enforced by none other than Caeric. Much to her chagrin, her older brother had taken his new role as her temporary warden seriously. He was always there, watching her like a hawk, especially in her beloved lab.
“Leorina,” Caeric’s voice carried a stern edge as he entered her lab one afternoon. He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at the sight before him: Leorina hunched over her workbench, scribbling furiously on a piece of paper.
She froze, the pen hovering mid-air. Slowly, she turned to face him, her expression a mixture of guilt and defiance. “I wasn’t doing anything strenuous,” she argued, gesturing to the blueprints before her. “Just… ideas. For later.”
Caeric approached, picking up one of the pages. His gaze softened slightly as he recognized the intricate design —a new chemical compound delivery device, cleverly integrating plant-based materials. Even he could appreciate the brilliance of it. But still, he sighed and set the paper down.
“Leorina,” he began patiently, “Father will have my head if you so much as sprain a finger in here.”
She huffed, leaning back in her chair. “You’re being dramatic.”
“And you’re being stubborn.” His tone was firm but not unkind. He pulled up a stool and sat beside her, resting his arms on his knees. “You can’t help everyone if you don’t help yourself first.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line. She hated how logical his point was. But then, Caeric did something unexpected —he pointed to a stack of blueprints at the corner of the table.
